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Foul jealousy! that turnest love divine to joyless dread, and makest the loving heart with hateful thoughts to languish and to pine.

Edmund Spenser

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Edmund Spenser
Died: 1599
Died: January 13
Poet
Translator
London
England
Edmund Spencer
Loving
Thoughts
Joyless
Divine
Languish
Heart
Pine
Love
Hateful
Foul
Jealousy
Dread

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Each goodly thing is hardest to begin.
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A circle cannot fill a triangle, so neither can the whole world, if it were to be compassed, the heart of man a man may as easily fill a chest with grace as the heart with gold. The air fills not the body, neither doth money the covetous mind of man.
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My Love is like to ice, and I to fire: How comes it then that this her cold so great Is not dissolved through my so hot desire, But harder grows the more I her entreat?
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All flesh doth frailty breed!
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The noblest mind the best contentment has
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There learned arts do flourish in great honour And poets's wits are had in peerless price Religion hath lay power, to rest upon her, Advancing virtue, and suppressing vice. For end all good, all grace there freely grows, Had people grace it gratefully to use: For God His gifts there plenteously bestows, But graceless men them greatly do abuse.
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Death is an equall doome To good and bad, the common In of rest.
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At last, the golden orientall gate Of greatest heaven gan to open fayre, And Phoebus, fresh as brydegrome to his mate, Came dauncing forth, shaking his dewie hayre And hurls his glistring beams through gloomy ayre.
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But O the exceeding grace Of highest God, that loves his creatures so, And all his works with mercy doth embrace, That blessed angels, he sends to and fro, To serve to wicked man, to serve his wicked foe.
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Sluggish idleness--the nurse of sin.
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All that in this delightful garden grows should happy be and have immortal bliss.
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What though the sea with waves continuall Doe eate the earth, it is no more at all Ne is the earth the lesse, or loseth ought : For whatsoever from one place doth fall Is with the tyde unto another brought : For there is nothing lost, that may be found if sought.
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Such is the power of love in gentle mind, That it can alter all the course of kind.
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Gather the rose of love whilst yet is time.
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The fish once caught, new bait will hardly bite.
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She bathed with roses red, And violets blew. And all the sweetest flowres That in the forrest grew.
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So let us love, dear Love, like as we ought Love is the lesson which the Lord us taught.
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Hard it is to teach the old horse to amble anew.
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For next to Death is Sleepe to be compared Therefore his house is unto his annext: Here Sleepe, ther Richesse, and hel-gate them both betwext.
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